“Quite enlightened, thank you! Do you know the family at old Barrens cottage?”
“There ain’t no family there; there’s only the old woman what can’t walk or nothin’; and a nigger. Them two don’t make one whole member of society, let alone a family. Was you acquainted with them, square?”
“Slightly so,” said the gentleman, smiling.
“Well, maybe you knew that there cove that went away—young Mr. Ray?”
“I believe I had that honor,” replied the young man, with the smile still on his handsome face.
“Honor! humph! I reckon you’re the only one ever thought it an honor to know him,” said the lad, grimly. “He always was a vagabones, and ended as all vagabones must, at last.”
For one moment the young gentleman glanced at the driver, evidently hesitating whether to pitch him then and there out of the gig or not; but seeing only a little boy with an exceedingly muddy face, he thought better of it, and said:
“Well, this is really pleasant to listen to! And how did this vagabones, as you call him, end?”
“Why, he was sent away from home, when they couldn’t stand him any longer; and the last we heard of him was that he was in State Prison for life.”
A low peal of laughter from the young lady followed this, in which, after a prolonged stare of astonishment, the gentleman was obliged to join.